


Batter Up

by LamiaCalls



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Background Riz/Fabian Pining, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, cooking together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamiaCalls/pseuds/LamiaCalls
Summary: Adaine and Fabian prepare a little something for the grand opening of Riz's new investigative agency.
Relationships: Adaine Abernant & Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Batter Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [navaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/gifts).



Adaine, on tip-toes, peered over Fabian’s shoulder, and shook her head.

“You’re meant to fold in the chocolate chips,” she said.

Fabian frowned down at the mixing bowl that he had been happily whisking, wrinkled his nose.

“What am I doing?” he asked.

“ _Beating_ ,” she said. “Here, you shouldn’t even be using a whisk.”

She went rifling through the drawers in the kitchen, and Fabian watched with interest.

“Where are your utensils?”

“How should I know?” he said. “It’s Cathilda’s day off. She usually takes care of — all of this stuff.”

He waved the whisk to indicate the kitchen, but all that achieved was splattering both the worktop and his clean black tank top with brownie batter. Dabbing at the spot on his tank only smeared it further, and he groaned.

“I’ll have to change before we can even take this over.”

“Was that really what you were going to wear anyway?” Adaine asked, her head bowed over a drawer. She popped up, a spatula in hand, her face a picture of triumph. “Aha!”

She elbowed Fabian out of the way.

“ _This_ is how you fold,” she said.

But Fabian was more concerned with her previous comment. This was one of his favourite white shirts. And yes, he had about fifteen of the same — it was important to have an aesthetic, after all — but that wasn’t the point.

“What’s wrong with this?” he said. “I look great.”

“And what, are you just going to throw your letter jacket over it?”

“…Yeah,” he said slowly.

“It’s a grand opening.”

“I thought you of all people, with your mother, would understand that—actually, never mind.” She pushed the bowl in front of him. “Finish this, I’m going to grease the pan.”

“Is this like…some kind of proper elf thing?” he said. Adaine was about the only one who could make him feel vaguely inadequate. It was what he’d disliked about her at first, but he’d since stopped caring.

“I guess,” she said, with a shrug. “Or maybe it’s just my family being unbelievable stuffy, who can say? But we should dress up nice. It’s Riz’s big day.”

Fabian opened his mouth to protest. Then closed it again with a huff.

“Fine, if it’ll make the Ball happy,” he said. Then he shot her a look. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

She rewarded him with an eye roll.

They managed to finish up the baking, pouring the brownie mix into the pan and sticking it in the oven. Fabian stood back, letting Adaine handle the controls.

“I’ll go get changed then,” he said. “Into something nicer, too.”

“I’ll be in your dad’s den.”

Fabian nodded, bounding up the stairs to his room. Since he’d shown Adaine the collection of stolen books and scrolls his papa had collected over many voyages, he hadn’t been able to keep her out of there. It didn’t bother him, anyway; Bill’s books were one of the few things Fabian didn’t take much interest in.

She was curled up on his papa’s winged armchair with some chunky tome.

“Did you know there was such a thing as pirate marriage?” Adaine said, looking up at him. Then she grinned. “You look great.”

Fabian ducked his head, hoping to hide his blush. Of course he looked good, he knew he did. But at the same time…something about dressing up for the Ball specifically made him feel extra exposed. He knew he could ask Adaine about that, but he always knew that it would be giving her far too much ammunition to tell him the truth of how he felt, and he wasn’t ready for that.

“Are the brownies ready?” he asked instead.

“We can check,” Adaine said.

He left Adaine to the checking: she knew so much more about baking than he did. In fact, she had been very eager when he’d asked if she would help him make something from the grand opening, even if it had come with that sly smile on the video call that he could see even through his crystal’s cracked screen.

“Do you think…” He hesitated, rubbed his neck. He suddenly found himself feeling like a little boy, not a goddamn man. “Do you think he’ll like them? Maybe we should have done something else. Like, I don’t know. A cake, or something.”

Adaine shook her head, but her face was kind.

“He’ll love them,” she said. “He’ll love that we went to this extra effort. Now come on, I don’t want to be late.”

“It’s unfashionable to be this early,” Fabian said, glancing at the clock.

“Right, but he’ll need us there for emotional support. If you’re freaking out over the _brownies_ , imagine what Riz is feeling about the opening of his very own investigative agency.”

Fabian could see it now: the Ball, pacing, legs shaking, hands curling and uncurling, rambling nonsense and needing someone much larger than him to put a hand on his shoulder and assure him that it was alright.

“Oh. Yes. Let’s go,” Fabian said.

He barely noticed Adaine’s call that she still needed to wrap the brownies up, because he was already scrambling to find his dress shoes.


End file.
